Making a Difference: Displacement

Maria and I shared two things when I met her in Medellin, Colombia: name and age. However, even that was questionable, for her tired eyes and silvery wisps of hair made her look twice her age as she sank onto the crate opposite mine, the first time she had sat down all day. Seen in the flickering light of a few candles, heard over the steady beating of the rain against the tin roof of the shed, …

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